Page 22 of Falling Into Gravity

Resting her hand on her hip, Aku swirled her neck. “I don’t like nobody telling me what I should and shouldn’t do. You cool - got good weed. What’s the harm?”

Malik just listened to her logic and even though he had so many rebuttals about all that was wrong with someone like her…liking someone like him, he tucked all of them into his hoodie when he lifted his hood to cover his head.

He nodded once. “Aight.”

They stood there a second longer, letting it be what it was.

“Night, Key.” She snickered.

“No call me Malik…Night, Aku.”

Then he got in his car and pulled off. Aku didn’t move until his taillights disappeared. And even then, she went inside slow, like she was still carrying a piece of the moment with her.

chapter 5

. . .

Malik wokeup to the sound of old soul music spilling from the kitchen and the sharp scent of bleach cutting through the air. It was barely 7AM and his mama, Myesa, was already cleaning the house. She moved through the halls like a woman on a mission, humming along to the music while talking to herself.

“Get up, Malik,” she called, without looking in his direction. “I ain’t raising no man who sleeps through the day.”

He yawned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes before dragging himself out of bed. His socks slid across the hardwood floor as he walked into the kitchen, shirtless, hair wild. Anthony, his pops, was already sitting at the table in his robe with a cup of coffee and the morning paper. He nodded toward Malik without a word.

“Morning,” Malik mumbled.

Anthony grunted back. “Sun been up. You too comfortable.”

Malik cracked an egg into the buttered skillet and fried it with quiet precision. His mama paused her mopping just long enough to kiss his cheek and then smacked him with the back of her hand for leaving dishes in the sink last night.

“You look tired, baby,” she said.

He just shrugged, because he was tired. A long night of coding and chilling with Aku had him sluggish this morning, after a restless night, when he was usually up before the birds.

He couldn’t stop thinking about her, not in a love-struck way, but in a real way. She was easy to be around - funny…sharp. And she ain’t make him feel like he had to be anyone else. That was rare for him. Most people either needed something from him or looked at him like he was the sum of his hustle. She didn’t seem phased by none of that, didn’t ask too many questions either…just vibed.

Now that he was back in his routine, the contrast of their lives hit him. He kept replaying her voice in his head, the way she cracked jokes, how she lit up when she laughed. He wasn’t trying to read into it. But something about her stuck.

He flipped the egg, let it sit for a second, then reached for the hot sauce. His pops looked up from the paper for a moment, then went back to reading.

“Where’s Gran?” Malik asked when he didn’t notice Gran Betty sitting in her usual spot.

Anthony kept his face in the paper. “Went to the nail salon or something.”

“And left me,” Myesa added, still cleaning.

Anthony tapped her ass making her giggle a little.

As he sat at the table to eat, Malik wondered if his dad ever felt like this when he first met his mama. Like someone had walked in and shifted something that had been still for too long. He wasn’t used to anyone shifting his world—he kept his life compartmentalized on purpose. But Aku showed up in a way he wasn’t expecting, and now his brain was moving different.

He pushed the thought aside and focused on the plate in front of him. He had work to do. Codes to check. Deliveries to prep. Life to handle. But even with all that waiting on him, Aku kept crossing his mind.

After breakfast, he threw on a hoodie and stepped outside into the Crescent. The sun hadn’t fully risen, but the block was already alive. Lil kids chased each other down the sidewalk barefoot, their mamas yelling from porches. A group of teenagers crowded the corner, laughing loud and talking about music. A few OGs were already parked on lawn chairs out front, watching everything like always.

This was home and even when he didn’t always feel safe, it was easier to deal with what he knew than to try to fit into a world he didn’t know.

“Yo Key!” one of the boys across the street called. “Come throw the ball!”

Malik jogged over, grabbing a half-deflated football and launching it down the street. The boys laughed as they ran to catch it. One of them, maybe 10 years old, ran up and asked, “You ever played for real?”

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